Scars of the Past
by pansexualwaffle
Summary: Working Title China recalls his past through a series of events, leading up until present day. Slight pairings, implied violence. Safe for most people, just a general warning for some sad events.
1. Chpt 1:The Beginning to the End

A/N; Hey, it's Missa. I was challenged by my friend Spectrum to participate in this years NaNoWriMo. I haven't gotten my 50k yet, but I really like this fan-fic, so please enjoy!

All of the bits in italics are flashbacks, which make up a huge part of the story. Most of them in this chapter are based on historical events.

* * *

**In order to survive, we need to move forward. We cannot hang on to the past.  
**- - - - -  
China kneeled down at the small table and poured his guest some tea. It wasn't very often that Russia made his way down to his country. He seemed to prefer to stay locked away up in Siberia, despite how much he said he hated the cold. The bigger man smiled and took the tea happily, sipping it quietly. Pouring himself some, China sat down and did the same. They sat in silence for a few minutes, before Russia broke the calm by asking, "China, why are you alone?"  
There was a pause, and the Asian country set down his tea slowly, "Alone? What…do you mean, Russia? How am I alone?"  
The blonde man smiled that irritating smile of his, that one he always seemed to hide behind. God, how that smile made China mad…but he refused to show it, keeping his face void of the emotion on his mind. "Well, " Russia began slowly, carefully choosing the words, "You live in this huge house alone…" He gestured around the living room of the Forbidden City, the royal palace. "Or, at least, most of the time alone. General Mao is off most of the time."  
China looked around the house slowly, and seemed to be deep in thought, "Well…I enjoy the peace and quiet. I didn't get that a lot growing up, what with my family…"  
"That's another thing." The larger man now had his elbows on the table, his head propped up in his hands, "Your family never visits you anymore…"  
The small man felt a twinge at his heart, and looked down into the cup, the red-brown liquid still steaming. "They…sometimes they do. Hong Kong is just busy with England. And Taiwan has things going on with Japan. Korea…I see him every once and a while…"  
"And Japan?" Russia asked, although he knew the answer before it was even said. _You never see him anymore…after __**that**__ incident.  
"R-Russia…!" The nation had never looked as weak as he looked now. Russia stared down at the Asian, who's shirt was ripped down the back, and a large gash was staining his porcelain white skin. "J-Japan…he left! He…he left me…he's gone…my brother…"_  
Russia remembered the night that the crying China had come running to him, looking for comfort. And he had tried to give it, but the blonde had never been one for comforting words…he had thought of every time the Asian had come to him when he was crying. China always seemed to have something to say that made it all better, something that made him want to continue to fight to be a country. Russia didn't have those words.  
"He…he's busy." China muttered, simply. After a long silence, he looked down at the papers on the table. "The meeting is tomorrow, correct? I suppose we should go over some of the topics…" And he was off, avoiding the subject at hand. He seemed to be doing that more and more lately, to the Russian's frustration. "Niet," He said, standing, "I need to go talk to America…" China's golden brown eyes looked up at him slowly, but he nodded. "Ah…well, have a good trip back to Russia, then." They parted, and China watched as the little kid he baby-sat for all those years walk away as the man he had grown to.  
"Why do people grow old?" The Asian asked himself quietly, turning back and going inside. "Why do they all die?" There it was again, that negativity towards death. But hey, he had a good reason! Being immortal…that meant that he had to watch his friends die, his loves die, and his family die. It was racking his body with pain, but he refused to let it show on his body. He was once a great nation, but slowly…slowly he felt himself being destroyed from the inside out. When had all this pain started? If China thought hard enough, he could just recall his past…

_The earliest memory China could think of was walking through the Forbidden City as a young man. China, or Yao as he was known back then, was wandering through the streets of Beijing alone, humming a song quietly to himself. "Lucky cat, Lucky cat, Wave your luck my way…" He continued to make up verses about Tama, the lucky calico who in story had saved a man's life. Little Yao jumped up onto a wall, holding his arms out for balance as he made his way across like he did everyday.  
Yao wandered across the wall and to the other side, when his eyes caught sight of something odd. His parents were standing at the gate of the Forbidden City talking. "Ne! Mama, Papa!" Yao rushed over to greet his parents, but slowed as he saw what was in their hands. A baby.  
"Who's that?" He asked quietly, staring at the little boy. He had golden brown eyes- just like him, and brown hair. His mother smiled warmly, "This is Hong Kong…your little brother, China." Yao looked up, not used to being called by his Country name. "I see…he is very cute, isn't he?" Their father smiled, "He looks just like you, China." A smile spread across the little boys face as Hong Kong closed his eyes, falling asleep in his mothers' arms. "Yeah…"_

With a smile at the warm memory, China stepped into his office and looked at the photos that were on his desk. His family. His pain. A hand went to his head as he remembered the headaches, the long nights, the sick days…he couldn't help but smile.

_"Chiiiinaaaa!" The scream came from the top of the stairs, where South Korea was being picked up by Hong Kong. "This isn't fair! I don't wanna take a bath!" China sighed, putting his brush down and stepping out of the office. He would never admit it, but he didn't mind being pulled away from all those damn papers.  
"You don't want to take a bath, you mean? 'Wanna' is not a word." China corrected with a smile. Korea just pouted, "It doesn't matter! I'm not taking one!"  
Hong Kong lowered his gaze, "Oh yes you are." Korea whimpered, leaping from his arms, "Fine! But…But I won't like it!" With that said, the little boy ran back down the hall, sliding the bath house door closed loudly.  
China smiled up at Hong Kong warmly, "God, I don't know what I'd do without you...thank you so much." Hong Kong nodded, and went to make sure that Korea was actually cleaning himself, not just splashing around like he normally did.  
Taiwan was playing dress up in her room. China peeked in and saw her turn with a warm smile. "Didi! Does big brother want to play?" China looked at the little girls happy face, then down the stairs at his paper work. Hm. The emperor could wait; China had to take care of his family first. "Sure, Taiwan…"  
Taiwan always seemed to have fun playing with China's hair. Unlike the rest of the boys, he kept his hair longer and it was more fun to play with. Her small hands brushes through the tangles, and China winced slightly. "Do you ever brush your hair, China?" He laughed softly, running his hand through a strand of his brown bangs, "I do…I've just been busy lately and not thinking much about my appearance, aru." Taiwan tapped him on the head with the hairbrush, "Looks are important!" He chuckled softly and nodded, "Yes, Miss Taiwan…"  
About half an hour later, China realized he was late for the meeting. Quickly, he put Taiwan down for her nap and rushed to his office, never getting the chance to look at his hair as he did so. He opened the door quickly, and rushed in. "I'm very sorry I'm so late, sir!" His boss gave him an odd look, before bursting into laughter. China felt his ears burning and touched his hair. Little Taiwan and put it into a nice braid with pink ribbons holding it. A deep sigh escaped and he murmured, "Why did I let her do this before the meeting…?"_

China chuckled softly at the memory. Back when his family was just that, a family. That was before all the pain, all the wars...he sighed deeply, almost painfully, feeling his age again. He moved onto the next photograph, a family picture of his whole family…including little Japan. He could remember the day that photo was taken as well…

_Taiwan dashed down the stairs, her pink dress flowing out behind her. "Do I look cute, Japan?" Her adopted brother looked her over quickly, not actually knowing what to say. He chose his words carefully as always, "It's not what I think about how you look…do you think you are cute? If so, then yes." Taiwan gave him a look for a moment, before smiling and nodding. "Okay! Come on, the photographer is here!"  
Korea stood at the top of the stairs, pouting. "I don't want to wear this." He was wearing a more traditional outfit than he was used to, and the sleeves were far too big for him. "This isn't Korean." Hong Kong picked him up simply and carried him down the stairs, "Not everything is…that is actually one of China's old robes he thought you'd like." Korea looked down at the outfit again, and his expression changed. "Really? Well then…I like it!" He jumped from Hong Kong's arms as they reached the bottom of the stairs and he rushed out to the garden to meet with the rest of the Asian family.  
China walked outside with a smile, enjoying the warm spring air. Birds were flying, his brothers and sisters were happy…his country was well. Nothing could ever ruin this moment…nothing.  
Except for that.  
China heard them coming for a while. But that smell…the smell of rotting hell and blood…he could recognize it anywhere. Their army seemed to reek of it now…"Hong Kong, get everyone inside, now!" China yelled, and Hong Kong looked up with fearful eyes. He nodded simply, before rushing all of the children inside.  
"Arthur. What are you doing here?" China glared at the man who had since come into the garden. On his face was a wicked smirk. "Ah, Yao…beautiful garden." His army had followed him in and now had the smaller man surrounded. "Answer me!" He yelled, frightened. What the hell could he want?  
"Well, you see…we need you to make a little…agreement with us." There it was again, that smile. China felt his blood turn cold. "Oh? And what would that be?" Britain walked closer, and stood over the Asian, "Opium. We need to keep it here."  
"No."  
What else could China have said? He knew the dangers…there was a reason they weren't allowed to have it in England. The taller man glared, "Oh? And let me ask you this; how are you going to stop us?" China desperately wished he had a weapon of some sort. But by now, the entire British army had their guns pointed at him.  
From behind one of the men came a yell, and Hong Kong had a sword carefully pointed at England's throat. "Hm…one of your brothers, I suppose?" China glared at England, then looked at Hong Kong, "What are you doing? Where are the others…?"  
"Oh, so there are more…men, find them!" The army burst into the house, searching for the children. China glared, "You won't lay a hand on them!"_

From there, the memory blurred, and China felt himself having to hold the desk for support. Why…why had he been so weak? Why had he allowed him to take Hong Kong away?

_The smell of blood filled the garden, and England stood over the now fallen China. "Your dynasty ends here, Yao. Give up." He spat at the ground before turning and grabbing the rope that was around Hong Kong's bruised wrists, dragging him away. China tried to yell, but there was no voice, just a raspy whisper, "No…"_

Tears began to fall from his eyes, staining his cheeks. With a rough hand he brushed them away, not wanting to show weakness. He was a nation. He had to be strong. Had to…but it never seemed to get any easier. If anything, the more he went on and tried to fight it, the worse things got. But every once in a while, some God took pity on him…

_China felt a presence linger over him, and heard a soft voice mumbling in a language he distantly recognized. Weakly, China pushed himself up, and met his golden eyes with light lavender ones. "I-Ivan...?" The blonde mans hand was extended, and China took it softly, helped to his feet. That strange smile was still on the mans face, and he shook his head, "Russia, now..."  
A glare set on China's face, "You're his ally. If you're here to destroy anything I have, you're too late...he broke me." China looked down at the ground painfully, before something was thrusted into his chest. A gun. Confused, China looked back up at Russia, who was giving him a look. "You want to protect them? Then fight. That's the only way, now." The blonde smiled again, and put his hands on China's shoulders, "That's what you taught me, comrade."_

Russia was truly his only ally, he felt. His brothers...they were family, they had to stood by him. But Russia chose to stand by him, to get hurt for him. A friend. No, he really was more like family...but not all families work that way. Sometimes things happen that could not be avoided...

_"Japan? What are you doing with that sword? That's Hong Kong's, put it down." China said, upon walking into the living room and seeing Japan in his white uniform, observing the blade. Japan glanced over at him, before glaring, "You cannot tell me what to do, China."  
China took a step back, confused. Japan never spoke to him like that...it was odd. Something was wrong. "Kiku, what's going on...?" Suddenly the sword was pointed at his throat. "I'm leaving, China. You're weak...you cannot even protect yourself. How do you expect to protect your country?"  
A glare set across China's face, and he turned his back on the younger Nation. "Japan, enough. Go to bed, we'll talk in the morning." The last thing we wanted to think of was anyone else leaving...  
Slash. The pain suddenly shocked China's body, knocking him to the floor. Blood now adorned the sharp blade. "You are weak, China. And one day, I will be the one to stand over you."  
__**Words are like the sharpest blade...killing without drawing blood.**_**  
**  
China put his hand to the scar that broke across his back, and tears slipped down his cheeks once again at the painful memory. Why did life never get easier? Angrily, China grabbed the photo of his family and threw it at the wall, causing the glass to shatter into a hundred little pieces. He painfully sank to the floor, his face in his hands. "They all left. Left me alone...like everyone promised they wouldn't...why did I ever open my gates to them?"  
"Because you're you, aniki~" The voice came from the door, and China quickly looked up, his eyes meeting Korea's. "What do you want now, Yong Soo?" China cleared his throat painfully and brushed away the tears, "I'm busy."  
Korea walked closer with that childish smile of his. He never grew up. China always acted annoyed at that fact, but deep down his was glad. He always had someone to look after.  
"Well, aniki, when you're done throwing picture frames, I thought you might like some tea." Korea finished, walking back over to the door, "I've already got it started, so don't say no." Quickly as he came, Korea dashed back into the kitchen.  
Was it so much that China needed someone to take care of, or for someone to take care of him?


	2. Chpt2:WWI, fight for Poland

**Wars come and go, work their path and take the lives of those who are weak. Those who fall are weak.  
**

_China sat in a field, watching his siblings running around like the children they were. Dancing and singing songs, they never frowned. Never thought of dangers, and never worried about life. China missed being like that…carefree._

It was little Korea who broke into China's thoughts by pulling on his sleeve lightly and looking up into his big brothers golden eyes with soft brown ones, "Aniki? Why are you just sitting there? You should come play with us!" China looked down at the 'innocent' little boy with a soft smile, "Play? Well, if I were to play with you guys, what would we play?"

The kids looked between themselves and began to talk, "Well, we could play tag, or…or soccer!" The kids began to speak of all these Western games they had heard of from the people who came to visit them earlier in the week when China was meeting with a few of the other Nations.

"Wushu!" Korea shouted, happily, "I wanna learn to do wushu!" The other kids looked between one another. Wushu was a form of martial arts that could take years to learn, and they were just kids. China gave him a look, then smiled, "Do you kids want to try?" They looked between one another before nodding vigorously.

"Alright, well, it's not as hard as it looks…" China paused for a moment, before taking the cat stance and looking over at the little Japan, "Try to run at me, alright?" Japan nodded and attempted to hit his brother, but was quickly blocked. The kids clapped their hands, but Korea rolled his eyes, "I can do that, I'm plenty fast! Strong, too!" He boasted happily, and China gave him a look, "Yes, you may be fast and strong, but that's not all. You need to have full balance. Like…" China looked down at the sand at his feet, kneeling and drawing a circle with his finger, "Ying," He split the circle with a curved line and added a dot on one side, then the other, "And Yang."

Korea looked at the drawing, confused, "But Ying and Yang is light and dark, isn't it?" China smiled and scruffed his hair, "No, it's not just that. It represents…well, earth and sky, quick and slow…opposites within ourselves." The other kids nodded, intrigued. "So, like you need to be fast and strong…" China pulled a sword from its sheath where it had been resting, doing a quick demonstration where the blade moved quick enough to be heard, "You also need to be calm and quiet…" He put the sword back into its place and sat down where he had been before. "If you can manage that, you can do anything."

China walked into the conference room, bowing his head quietly as a greeting to the others who had already arrived. France and England were arguing over hell knows what, Russia was sitting in silence as always and America was late, yet again. China sat in his seat and stared at the map that was drawn onto the chalkboard. His eyes scanned over the English words. This was only their third meeting; he still hadn't managed to learn their alphabet. The only person he figured who was in the same boat was Russia, but he didn't even try to speak to him. They went their separate ways after Japan had left. They tried to keep in touch, but things became too difficult. China was locked away, wishing he had never opened his doors to the outside world, to the western world. God, how he hated those Europeans. They had no respect for other cultures, or anyone but themselves.

"Privet." China looked up at the blonde man, who greeted him simply but warmly. He wasn't sure if that smile was real or not, but it was still nice to have someone at the very least acknowledge him, "Ni hao." He responded, equally as simply but with a sincere smile. An awkward silence fell in the conference room, and everyone looked down at the meeting papers. "So…where is America?" France asked, breaking the silence. England rolled his eyes, "Late, as always, the twat. He's probably still at lunch."

At that moment, America's ears must have been burning because he came bursting through the door, paper bag in hand. The smell of grease and fake meat filled the room, causing everyone but England to gag slightly. "No need to fear!" America announced with his mouth full of food so that it sounded more like he was proclaiming that he had fur, "The hero is here!" England smacked America upside the back of the head, and forced him to sit down, "Just start the meeting already, you twat."

While America rubbed his now aching head, he began to talk, "Well, it seems that Germany is advancing on Poland. He needs help, and he needs it soon. How quickly can you guys get troops there?" England sighed deeply, thinking, "I may be close, but we're currently still stationed over in Italy." France sighed deeply, nodding his head, "So are we, helping clean up." America looked desperately at the last two, the communist duo. "Vell," Russia said in broken English, struggling to make sure he said everything correctly, "If it ve're anyone other than Poland, Red Army vould help." America let out an exasperated sigh and turned to China with pleading eyes, "Come on, Chinaaa! You're his only hope!"

China glared slightly, not liking it when people turned to him last. "What good would it do? By now, we're probably too late…" He walked up to the map after grabbing the fax form America, "We got this letter from Poland four hours ago. Poland shares a border with Germany, so it wouldn't take long for his troops to get there. No matter how many people are fighting there, it would take us too long to send any troops there."

America sighed deeply, and sat back down at the table, "So what? We're going to sit here and do nothing for him? He would help us if we asked him too! He came to us!" Hands slammed down on the table, and England hoisted himself out of his chair, "It doesn't matter, America! We can't do anything!"

The young nation's eyes set into a glare, and he turned on the group, "Well, maybe you can't…but I'm not going to give up." With that, he rushed out of the conference room, leaving the others behind in an awkward silence.

America came back a week later, with a broken, beaten Poland limping beside him. His arm was around the pale shoulders for support, and Poland looked at the others when he arrived with a look that made their blood run cold. What would happen when they became like that? Who would help them when they fell? The nations greeted Poland warmly, let him rest and gave him food to help him get his strength back. It was so odd to see such a carefree country like this.

Lithuania came to see him, as well. When he saw the blood, the scars, and the bruises on his skin, everyone thought he was going to break out in tears. They left the two alone so that they could talk, so they could heal together. Friends. That's what they were, friends who would stand by until the other fell, and never leave their side.

It was the same with the Axis. They were friends, and that was what made them so powerful. They trusted each other and could lean on one another for support. Germany, Italy, and Japan. They were truly powerful by proving that they could fight together and trust one another, despite their differences.

Why did the Allies have to be different?

_Korea rushed into China's study, panting and out of breath from running from wherever he had been playing. His knees were bloody and he had scrapes all over his arms. China's eyes widened and he leapt from his chair to assist his little brother, "Yong Soo, what happened? Why are you bleeding?" When pulled into a tight embrace from his big brother, little Korea began to cry, "These kids outside! They-they don't like me, so they started throwing things at me! Rocks and sticks…it hurt! So I ran, and fell and they…" His words kept pouring out, so quickly that they all meshed together. China couldn't understand, but he knew enough; someone had hurt his brother, and someone would be in trouble soon. No one hurt his family._

**A thorn defends the rose, harming only those who would steal its blossom. **


	3. Chpt 3:Child to the Conqueror

**The past shall light the way…**

China wasn't alone. China had never been alone…he repeated this words in his head like a mantra…besides, who was Russia to tell him he was alone? Ukraine had never been around when he was little. His only company was the Baltic's, and did they really want to be around him?  
A deep sigh escaped as China wandered through the halls of the Russian palace. Lithuania had been nice enough to let him in and allow him to walk himself to Russia's study. By now, he knew this house like the back of his hand…he could remember when he had first come there…

_Ukraine inhaled deeply, worried. She had already gone to everyone else she could think of to ask this favor, and everyone else had said no. China was her last hope. Slowly, carefully, she opened the door, "China?"  
China looked up from his paperwork in surprise, but smiled at the girl, "Ah, Ukraine, please come in…" The blonde did, and she sat in one of the chairs opposite of China and, placing her hands on her lap nervously, said, "I have a favor to ask of you…" The Asian smiled warmly, "Yes, what is it, aru?" Ukraine was a nice girl, simple. It was rare of her to ask for help, despite her current financial state.  
"Well, I've got to take Natalia with me to a meeting, but I've got no one to stay behind and watch Ivan. His last nanny had to…err, quit." Please don't ask, please don't ask…She thought to herself nervously, not wanting to explain exactly how the last nanny had managed to fall down three flights of stairs and get locked out of the house. Ivan was a…troublesome child, who needed someone with China's level of experience to watch him.  
"A, little Russia, hm? Well, I suppose it shouldn't be a prob-" Before he got the chance to finish, Ukraine was hugging him tightly, cutting off his breath with her chest, "Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She let go and rushed off happily._

That was before China had to look after his own siblings, he remembered fondly. The first time he actually met Russia. He had only been young at the time, not nearly old enough to be considered a country in China's eyes. He remembered finally arriving in front of the golden palace…

_His hands were shaking as he reached up and knocked on the large door. China could hear crashing coming from within and he raised an eyebrow curiously A very rushed-looking Ukraine answered the door with a smile, "Ah, China! Thank goodness-I mean, I was beginning to think you were going to cancel on me!" She smiled widely as a small blonde girl peeked out from behind her legs. "Ah, this is Natalia, little Belarus." China smiled at the small girl, "Hello there, little girl…why, aren't you cute, aru?" The girl looked China over suspiciously, "He looks like a girl, Ukraine…" Wince. China felt like someone had hit him with a frying pan, "Aiyah…" He whimpered slightly, but Ukraine just laughed, "I'm sorry! Oh, little Ivan is up in his room, you can go and find him. We'll be leaving now!" Before China had the chance to actually ask where Russia's room was, they were gone. With a deep, deep sigh China made him way over to the staircase and began to search through the palace.  
After trying about six rooms, most of which had been spare bedrooms, China found a door and heard a noise from inside. "Ivan, is that you?" China opened the door slowly and saw a mass of pillows on the bed, with eyes staring at him from underneath. China laughed softly and closed the door, turning back to face little Ivan. Suddenly, glass shattered next to his face. A broken snow globe fell to the floor, leaving white 'snow' and water everywhere. "What the…?"  
"You broke my snow globe!" A voice yelled. China's eyes looked down-not very far though- until he met lavender eyes. The eyes belonged to a little blonde, "You broke it!"  
China put his hands on his hips in a very feminine way, "You threw it at me, little Ivan." The blonde seemed determined to get China in trouble, and he could only guess why.  
Ivan paused, and looked down at the broken glass. "I didn't mean to break it, I just didn't want you to come inside!" China huffed slightly, "Aiyah, if that's all then why not just put a 'do not enter' sign on your door, aru?" It was little Russia's turn to pout angrily, "Da, there is!" He turned the doorknob, quickly swinging the door open to reveal a sign that was only at about China's waist height that had strange little writing on it that he couldn't read. "And…that says?"  
Russia looked up at him and sighed, "It says keep out! It's Cyrillic!"_

China sighed softly at the memories as he stopped in front of the door where the sign had once been. Curiously, he opened the door. The room had since been abandoned as Russia had grown too big for the room. China's hand ran over the doorframe, rough wood where the glass had hit. He smiled softly…some things would never be forgotten.

_They were now downstairs, with China making some hot chocolate and Russia asking him thousands of curious questions about his country. "So you don't write in Cyrillic?"  
"No, we write in something called Kanji."  
"Kanji…" Ivan said, drawing out every syllable of the foreign word which sounded strange with his accent. "That sounds strange." He smiled that cute little smile as China set down the cup of hot chocolate and sat down next to him.  
"No, not strange. Just…different. People from my country would think your language is strange as well, but we're just different." Ivan watched him for a moment, before sipping the warm drink. "What do you mean different?"  
"Well, like…hmm, how to explain this…" China tapped his fingers softly as he thought, "Well, I don't look Russian, do I?"  
Ivan's lavender eyes went over the older man and he shook his head, "No…you have dark hair and your eyes are all…squinty." China paused, but laughed none the less. "Exactly! We're very different…"_

The conversation had gone on, with Ivan continuing to ask questions that seemed fairly odd for his age. Things like what kind of money he had –_"Yuan." He said with a smile-_ and what his language was._ "Well, I actually have eight languages, but I mainly speak Putonghua."_

China finally reached Russia's study, opening the door and entering with a warm smile. "Ni Hao, Ivan."  
The once little child glare at him, "No, my name is Russia…stop calling me that, China." The Asian took a step back, but shrugged it off and walked up to his desk, "What is it we need to talk about, aru?" Russia turned away from him, looking out at the snow in silence, "The meeting has been rescheduled to next week."  
"Ah."

There was a pause between the two, and it was hard for either of them to speak. It was once again China who broke the uncomfortable silence, "So…how is Stalin? Healthy?" A slight sigh escaped from Russia, as if even the mention of his leaders name made him painfully tired. "His body is healthy; yes…it is his mind that had me worried." But even as he said such negative words, the smile never left Ivan's face. It would have been eerie, had China not grown used to it.  
Russia looked down at the pictures on his desk with a slightly more real smile. China's eyes looked down at the one he was looking at; a picture of him and China with the snow man they had made one winter.

_"China?" The Asian looked up at his name and saw little Ivan standing there with a small paper bag filled with Heaven only knows what. China smiled softly, "Yes, Ivan? What is it…and what is that bag?"  
Ivan smiled warmly, the only thing in the whole house that was actually warm. "I want to build a snow man! The snow outside is all soft now!" China glanced outside where little snowflakes fluttered to the ground as opposed to the flurries that usually stung at their eyes. The sun was shining softly, making icicles shine brightly."A snow man, hm? Well, alright. Let's go do that…"  
After about half an hour of getting into suitable clothing, the two made their way outside. China, who was still not used to the cold weather, took a little longer getting outside than little Russia, who proclaimed how warm it was. China merely raised an eyebrow, wearing about three coats.  
They rolled out the snow into three large balls, and then stared at them for a couple minutes. It was little Ivan who finally asked, "How are we going to get them on top of each other?" China attempted to pick up the middle one, which ended in a fail. "Well…the snow man is just going to be lying down, that's all!" Ivan gave him a look, but slowly smiled, "Okay!" he rolled the balls closer so that the snowman looked like he had fallen over.  
China went back inside and came back out with the bag Ivan had been carrying earlier, which had turned out to be filled with buttons for eyes and a large carrot. China gave the bag to Ivan to make the face while he looked for "arms". China came back with two oddly shaped sticks and stuck them into the side of the snowman with a smile. Ivan, meanwhile, had made the snowman with a happy face. Lastly, he stuck the carrot in and stepped back to admire his work. China laughed softly, "Go pose with him! I'll take a picture!"_

Russia chuckled softly at the memory, as did China. "Russia, what happened? Why have we grown so far apart?" A sigh came from the blonde, and he tore his eyes away from the photo and back up to China. "I wish I knew, China…" He stood slowly, coming around the desk to stand by his old friend. He now stood much taller than China, time having taken its toll on him. "The wars, our families…all these things pulled everyone apart from each other."  
"Mm. But this war is stronger than the rest…things are going to change forever." China muttered softly, and Russia nodded slightly. "True. But in the end, we will all-"  
"If you say become on with Russia, I'll hit you."  
Russia laughed lightly, "Da, that too, but I was going to say we will all fight for one equal goal, freedom for our people and the best for the world." China smiled, and the two Communist countries finally agreed once again. "The best for the world, hmm? Yes…that's what we're fighting for. Peace."  
Outside, the smoke was getting closer. The Germans were getting closer. "Ivan, Russia, you know what has to be done for peace." Russia groaned slightly, sitting back down, "Fighting alongside those idiotic Europeans…" There was a long pause, before Russia laughed softly, "Well…the enemy of the enemy is my friend. We all are fighting for the same goal."

One week later, Russia joined the Allied Forces.

**A child's life is like a piece of paper on which every person leaves a mark.**


	4. Chpt 4: Resolutions and Reunions

**bWhen all else fails, friends will not./b**

The meeting had already started. America was running late, as usual, and as always they waited until he arrived to start. This meant there was more time for the allies to get into fights over stupidity. England had already started a fight with France AGAIN, and Russia was plotting their downfall. China sat in the corner, opening his box lunch in silence. He skipped breakfast that morning, and he heard his stomach let out an audible growl.

And by audible, I mean loud. The other three stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to the Asian, who blushed lightly but looked away, eating quietly. They all knew something was up; meals were of huge importance to China and the thought of him skipping one was almost impossible to imagine.

England pushed France off of him and walked over to the small Asian. He put a hand softly on his shoulder, "Hey, China, are you alright?" He could feel the small shoulders tense under his touch, angrily. China jerked away from the Brit, not saying anything for a moment. When he finally spoke up, his voice was soft, "I'm fine, aru…please, just continue with your fighting."

England nodded and backed off, going back to the earlier conversation with France. Russia watched China for a moment, before sighing and looking back at the fighting Europeans. "You two are foolish…" He muttered under his breath. They glanced over, confused. "What's that supposed to mean, Russia?" England asked, glaring slightly. "You know what day it is, da?"

England shrugged his shoulders lightly, "Yeah, it's the-Oh…" France, still having no idea what was going on, looked between the two before finally sighing in aggravation, "Okay, I'll bite…what are we talking about?"

There was a sigh from England, who looked over at China. He obviously wasn't listening, so he continued with the conversation, "One hundred and seventy years ago, on this very day, I…I took Hong Kong away." There was a slam, and everyone looked over at where China had previously been sitting. He was now standing with his back to them, the chair having fallen backward onto the floor. Apparently, he HAD been listening. Without a word, he turned and left quickly, slamming the door behind him.

iChina paced across the office, waiting for the letter boy to hurry back. Every month, on this day, Hong Kong sent him a letter. And when China responded, he told him that if he didn't receive his letter, he would go to war with Britain to retrieve him.

The small boy opened the door nervously, shaking softly. China turned to him with a warm smile, "Ah, come on in…" The boy walked over quickly, handing China the letter before bowing and rushing off. A soft chuckle escaped, and China opened the letter carefully so as not to rip the red paper. The front had been written in Romanized font, and China breathed a sigh of relief when the letter on the inside was written in kanji. The last thing he wanted was for his brother to lose everything; his family, his home, and his culture.

The letter was brief, far briefer than China would have wanted. He told little stories about waking England up at all hours of the night with firecrackers and he complained about the state of their tea, which apparently tasted like dirt. These always made China laugh, those stories. It was almost like he could hear Hong Kong's voice reading the letter out to him.

He carefully folded the letter back up and put it in a small locked box with the others, then took out a sheet of white paper and began to write the letter back. His was longer, talking about the state of China, how the siblings were doing, and mainly how much they all missed him. By the end of the letter, China was in tears. Quickly, he sent it off, hoping to hear from him again soon.

A month passed. Then another. Three months. By the fourth, China felt his stomach turn. What had happened? He tried to think of positive things, like the letter getting lost on the way. But he had sent him another in the second month, and yet another in the third. Maybe he didn't want to hear from him anymore? What if…what if he had lost sight of who he was? Or maybe England was keeping them apart to force that to happen.

Well, that settled it. China put all of his work aside and arranged a flight to England. Maybe he couldn't take Hong Kong back yet, but he would not let him be completely removed from his life.

The flight wasn't so much long, as it was unnerving. China hated Europe. He hated them for what they had done, and for what they were doing. The plane flew over the sights, but they were covered by London's smog. China sneered, and exited the plane as soon as it touched the ground. "Uhm, excuse me…" China asked one of the people bustling around. "You know how to…" China bit his tongue, not completely knowing how to translate into English anymore, "Can you show me…how to get to Mr. Kirkland's home?"

The lady gave him a look with her nose turned up, as if she were disgusted by him being there. But after a moment, she sighed and said, "Ah, yes. 'e lives just up the 'ill from 'ere." China resisted strangling her for the irritating way she spoke before he sighed and bowed lightly, "Thank you, miss."

Arthur's house was nice, he'd give it that. China walked up the stone steps and rang the doorbell. It rang, hollow and deep, before the door was opened by an almost familiar face. His brown hair hadn't changed, and he still had that sad look in his eyes. Those eyes widened when he realized who was standing there, "…China?"

The next moment, they were clinging to each other. China was apologizing for letting this happen, Hong Kong was thanking him for coming. The two stood for a moment in silence, before they heard sarcastic clapping from the top of the stairs. "Well, well, well…what a touching display."

China glared up at England, stepping inside. "Arthur, how dare you…mind explaining why none of my letters got to Hong Kong?" The mentioned Asian looked up, and over at the master of the house, "You said he had stopped writing to me…"

England shrugged lightly, walking down the staircase. "I lied."  
"Bastard," China hissed, wanting to lunge at England, to just rip his throat out. But he didn't dare attack him in his own home. And besides…he could just make sure he never saw Hong Kong again.

England laughed, "Now, China, such language isn't necessary…" He walked forward, close enough to put his hand on Hong Kong's shoulder and pull him back. The younger boy winced painfully, whimpering and trying to pull away.  
"Stop hurting him, England."  
The blonde smiled, almost smirked, and merely asked, "Why should I? Remember, he's mine for now."

Again, something happened so quickly that China couldn't even think. He had lunged at England, desperately attacking him without a weapon. When England shouted, guards came out of one of the hallways, pulling China off and pinning him down. England stood, brushing himself off and summoned Hong Kong over. The young Asian walked over hesitantly, and China felt tears brimming in his eyes. b**No, don't cry. Never cry./b**

"Escort Yao back to his home, men." England said, grabbing Hong Kong by the wrist and dragging him down the hall. China continued to try to fight against the guards, but was unsuccessful and forced back home.

Korea was waiting for him when he returned, but China brushed him aside and locked himself away in his office for around two months, never leaving except to eat./i

That had been years ago, and the last time China heard from his brother until nineteen-ninety seven when he was finally returned home. England hadn't given him up easily, not without a fight. But his country thought it was for the best, so he returned Hong Kong like they had agreed.

England was now standing on China's doorsteps, an attempted apology running through his mind. He finally brought himself to knock, and heard footsteps running towards the door. Not China, he knew that. The door opened, and out peeked two heads, one belonging to a boy with an obnoxious curl and the other to a small girl with long brown hair. The two stared at him suspiciously, before slamming the door. He heard them yelling from behind it, "Hong Kong, hide! It's that bushy-browed guy!"

Ouch. He probably deserved that, he mentally said to himself, but waited. He heard China muttering to himself, and the door opened again. England raised his eyes at China's state of dress, the elder dressed in a traditional outfit which looked quite feminine. It was quite different from seeing him in his uniform. "Arthur?"

The British gentleman bowed deeply, imitating the polite greeting he had picked up from Hong Kong, "I'm here to…to apologize." China raised an eyebrow, but leaned against the doorway curiously, "Oh? That's a first." England bit his tongue to keep back the snappy retort.

"Yeah, yeah it kind of is…" He straightened back up to face China, "But we need to fix things between our countries. I don't want you to hate me forever…" China's eyes lowered, but he didn't respond for a few minutes. "You destroyed my empire, caused my downfall and tore apart my family."

There was a long pause, and you could hear the wind blowing around them, through the trees and across the lands. China finally spoke again, "How can you dare ask me to forgive you?"

England just laughed softly, "I guess I can't…but I hope that we can at least move forward…" China thought about the things he had been told when he was little. "In order to survive, we have to move forward…" He muttered softly, before meeting England's eyes again. "You are right. We cannot continue to live like this."  
China extended his hand slowly, and England shook with a smile. "We are allies again?" China shook his head, "No. Not just allies…we are friends again."

b**The greatest victory is the battle not fought.** /b


	5. Chpt 5: Moving Forward

**bDo not hide from the world. It only makes them search for you more./b**

China woke to the sun gently rising over the hills. Yawning, he stretched and slipped out from under the covers. He got dressed, still not used to the cotton material of his uniform. China had grown fond of the silks he usually wore, but those things would never last in the situation of war. The dyed fabric was draped over one of the chairs, and he ran his hand across the satin smooth surface.

iThey had been trading for a few centuries now, but England was curious just where the man was from. He was here again today, with the strange goods that, no matter how hard he tried, England could not find in Europe. The man- He said his name was China- unwrapped the cloth that had been wrapped around pendants and rings of jade, the rich green stone shining in the light. There were also small statues and figures, with golden accents around them.

He quickly moved along to the next package, filled with exotic smelling teas and spices. The smells filled the room and danced around the air. England eyed them, picking up some of the tea and holding it close to his nose, inhaling the sweet scent deeply. The next package was opened slowly, and the man pulled out fabrics in multiple colors. England reached out and touched them, interested. "What do you call these?"

The brown haired man smiled, and answered to the best of his ability, "It called silk. Made by Lei Zu…" England took them from out of the package and ran his fingers across the cold, smooth surface. "Interesting…" China nodded, and smiled warmly./i

Silk was now worn around the world, the secret to making it was well known. China sighed deeply, and walked out from his bedroom and straight to his office. Forget breakfast, he had work to do. There was a pause where the Asian's stomach objected to that idea. With a sigh, China made his way into the kitchen to cook something.

As he stood over the stove, china's eyes wandered out the window that was over the sink. Outside it was a sunny, warm day with children running around and playing. Cars honked and sped along, desperate to get to their destination. Sigh. "People spend too much time worrying, aru…" He muttered, pouring the fresh rice into a bowl, "I miss the quiet days…"

iWake up, be dressed by servants, go for a walk in the imperial gardens…life was good and simple. China enjoyed this life as much as his emperors did. This particular day was a little different, though. One of his brothers, Yong Soo, ran over and happily handed his 'aniki' a letter. It was signed with strange characters that the Asian struggled to read before taking it to one of his council-men.

The younger scholar read the letter quickly out to the court; Britain was coming to find China. Everyone in the room turned their eyes to the country, who glared down at the floor with his fists clenched. His leader asked in a booming voice that everyone in the Forbidden City could hear, "WHAT? China, how did you let this happen? What did you do to make Britain come after us?" The eldest in the room, Yao himself, sighed deeply at the anger he felt from everyone, standing from his chair in silence and exiting the court.

When you are a country, the people's problems are your responsibility to fix. It is your fault when the economy, the land, and anything to do with anyone is bad. You are expected to fix it, no matter how weak it already makes you. China knew this, through years of dealing with his people. But somehow…somehow it never got any easier. It still hurt to be accused.

England was getting closer. As he walked to the bow of the ship, he stared ahead at the land. "Hmph. Asia, you didn't hide as well as you had tried. How could you have stayed hidden for so many years?"

Down on the docks, Yao spoke with the men on the ships. They said that no one had spotted any British ships of any kind in months. It was peculiar. He said he was searching for them now…but what if…Yao chuckled at the idea of England going in the wrong direction.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THIS ISN'T INDIA?!" England yelled at the men, who shrunk away at the yelling on the shores of America. The little country peeked out from behind a bush with a quiet laugh./i

China set the now empty bowl into the sink, rinsing it quickly. Well, had they not been searching for him then they never would have discovered America…because that would be a shame. China rolled his eyes slightly. God, that pest got on his last nerve…but at the same time, you couldn't really hate him. He was too sweet, and he really did have a good heart. China thought back to when they first met…

iWar was upon them again. It was now or never; they had to form a group to help save the countries from the Axis. England had directed America towards a group of people who would be willing to help him. One caught his eye. "Woah, England, who's the girl?"

"Girl? No, wait, America that's-" England didn't get a chance to finish his warning. The young nation had wandered over to the Asian who was chatting with Russia quietly, each in their native languages. America put on his smoothest face and sat down next to 'her', before attempting to listen to their conversation. "Hey, Russia, is this your girlfriend?"

Crash. England looked over at where America had previously been standing. He was now laying on the ground in pain, clutching his head. "What the HELL?" America whined, standing up to face China, who was yelling at him. "Húndàn! Nǐ shì shéi diào tiáo yòng yī gè nǚrén, aru? Wǒ yīnggāi xiàng nǐ sǐwáng, háizi."

England sighed deeply and walked over, putting a hand to China's shoulder, "Yao, I apologize…I'm ashamed to introduce my son, America." The Asian raised his eyebrows, slowly speaking in English, "Son? You were…pregnant? How…?" He shook it off quickly, not wanting to know anymore.

Russia was chuckling at the young nations misfortune, "America, you do know that China is man, da?" America's eyes couldn't have bulged anymore from his head, "A-A-A man? Are you serious?!" Everyone in the room murmured little agreements, and China crossed his arms across his chest. "Of course…why would you think I am girl…?"

Everyone sniggered a little bit, and China pouted more. Russia put a hand on his shoulder, pretending to be sympathetic but praying that the elder couldn't see the laughter in his eyes./i

China sighed deeply, sitting back down at his table with a soft smile. His eyes wandered out the window, and the smoke in the distance caught his attention. "I suppose it's time…" He stood, adjusting his uniform. The red band stood out brightly on his arm, the white star shone brilliantly. He smiled once more to himself, before grabbing the gun from so many years ago and heading out. To protect his country. His family. His future and his past.

b**All things change, and we change with them.** /b

* * *

Sadly, this was the best place I could think to leave it off.

China; Hey! That's no fair!

Don't pout! There's more coming, just not in this story! And, to you who read this, I hope you like RussiaxChina~

China; Wh-what?!

Thanks for reading~!


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